


No escape

by Waywardkitten



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dissociation, On the Run, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, identity crisis, like super angsty, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardkitten/pseuds/Waywardkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the last note of rage leaving his throat he looked down at the asphalt, his sudden cry still ringing in his ears. Tears of confusion stinging the corners of his eyes.<br/>"What am I?", he breathed out in the tiniest of whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No escape

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of my first attempts at writing fanfiction and english is my second language so I'm sorry for eventual grammatical errors or the occasional misspelled word.  
> Please let me know what you think. x  
> ( _And sorry for the crappy title but for some reason I just got blocked on that one. If you have any ideas please let me know_ )  
> [My tumblr](https://waywardkitten.tumblr.com)

The mud clung heavy under his boots, his hair soaked and sticking to his face.  
He was panting, able to see every breath he drew as it took form in the cold night air. He didn't know how long he had been running, he only knew he could never stop. The thoughts crashing around in his already crowded mind were broken, scrambled and screaming, absolutely screaming even though it, to him, didn't make even the slightest of sense - _none of it did_ -

Annoyed, he dried some raindrops of off his forehead with the sleeve of his left arm. Steam was rising both from his body and breath. The clash of his boots against the flooded street echoed in the air. They would not catch him, they could not catch him, he would never be used again, he would never hurt anyone again.  
' _I can't, I can't, I can't_ ' was all he could make out of the hurricane that was the contents of his mind.  
No sense of identity, no plans of direction. Just the absolute feeling of needing to outrun whatever's in his past, what he could constantly feel gripping at his heels. His legs began to give out so he slowly came to a stop. Clenching his fists tight, eyes squeezed shut, a low rumble in his chest emitting in an furious, desperate scream.

At the last note of rage leaving his throat he looked down at the asphalt, his sudden cry still ringing in his ears. Tears of confusion stinging the corners of his eyes.  
" _What am I?_ ", he breathed out in the tiniest of whispers.  
The paranoia sneaking up on him, making him feel as though he was being watched, pushed him forward. Taking one step at a time before quickening his pace until he was running again, in spite of the exhaustion tugging on every limb. 

Every muscle hurt, every extremity of his body pushed beyond it's limits and he was ready to collapse. Only that his mind wouldn't let him. He raised his hands up to his face wiping the water from his chin to his forehead and back down over his hair, removing the strands from his face.  
He could see the asphalt, the cobblestone, the houses and the details in the painted wood - _everything_ -, but still none of it seemed real, none of it made any sense. It was night but everything was too bright, too sharp - _cutting at his eyes like razors_ -. He looked away, concentrating on his feet and making them move. To not stop,- he could never stop. 

He looked down at his boots, but he didn't recognize them. He couldn't identify them as his own and the feeling shook him to his very core. Cold air filled his lungs as he drew in a ragged breath looking away. He held out his right hand, squinting down at it, flipping it over again and again. He couldn't even be sure if he'd ever even seen it before in his life. Instinctively he clutched his left hand, feeling the metal shift. He knew this was something that had been done to him, yet it still felt like it was someone else. And he, he was just an observer that somehow ended up in this chaos against his will. It was like regaining consciousness from a dreamless sleep only to wake up in a nightmare where you are ripped from reality to reality, sharp edges tearing at the fabric of your mind, leaving open gushes clouding everything that could make even the least bit of sense. 

His body started to go limp, his pace reluctantly slowing down. There was no way he could keep going. His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. He was pretty close to the outskirts of town and at the end he could see only darkness. He clutched his stomach while stumbling forward, his breath heavy and coming in gasps. His ears were ringing, the skin on his face and neck feeling cold and clammy. There was no sense of self there, no inner compass, no want, no ego, no light to speak of. 

He fell apart under an oak, finally safer in the dark. He drew his back up against the trunk of the large tree, clutching his knees against his upper body in a a tight grip. He had no foothold in this new reality and he could not remember it's predecessors. There was only flashes of imagery, sounds and even scents. The sudden flashback that brought back the smell of human flesh made him cringe and shudder against the wet soil. He turned positioning his side against the bole, trying to make himself small, pulling his lower half to his chest. There was a light rustling in the trees from the wind, a few drops of rain falling down on his bowed head. The cold water didn't connect, couldn't reach him. He whimpered, eyes squeezed shut trying to calm the deafening chaos within. 

_No safe space, no one to know, no glue holding him together. Just a human trapped in his own mind, unable to escape._


End file.
